


Number Thirteen

by HighFunctioningSarah



Series: Jinx Anthology [8]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Art, Artists, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Multi, Painting, Reader is The Doctor's Companion (Doctor Who), Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, The Doctor on His Own, The Thirteenth Doctor - Freeform, reader is an alien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24019543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighFunctioningSarah/pseuds/HighFunctioningSarah
Summary: As an artist experiencing mysterious dreams, you decide to bring them to life through your brush only to be interrupted by a loud crash and metallic wheeze entering your apartment.
Relationships: The Doctor (Doctor Who) & Reader
Series: Jinx Anthology [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713607
Kudos: 4





	Number Thirteen

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before the Christmas special in which the thirteenth doctor first appeared. Initially, this is what I imagined her to be like.

_You were surrounded by snow._

_It covered the endless ground, flittering from the dark sky in broken fragments. The flakes danced in the night, their pristine white gowns twirling in their wake. The light breeze guided them across a deep blue stage, ghosting the grey silhouette of clouds. They landed on your exposed cheeks, turning them pink. They landed on your woollen sleeves, melting from your body heat and making the outside of your jumper wet. They landed in your hair, the flakes standing out against their new backdrop. You were freezing._

_Glancing around, you couldn't see any buildings, only tall pines illuminated by the moonlight. A lone, blue box sat in the distance, a light glow emanating from its open doors. You gasped, noticing an elderly man hobble from the box and fall to the ground. He was taking gulping, heaving breaths, struggling to lift even his torso from the icy grass. His face scrunched in pain, and he let out a yell of frustration. It rang out across the endless forest, tearing you out of the stupor you had fallen under._

_You began to run towards him, footfalls landing heavily against the snow. Tearing past the greenery that separated you from the old man, you called out to him. He ignored you, instead shouting at the sky like a madman. Throwing his fists in the air, he seemed to have a moment of clarity voice cutting short by a short sob. He began mumbling to himself, a deep sadness in his eyes. You leapt over a fallen log, toe catching on its bark. Crashing into the forest floor, snow hit your face and the coppery flavour of blood worked across your tongue._

_Scrambling to your feet once more, you shouted, only to stumble back at the sight of a blinding, golden light reaching out from the man's face and hands and across the forest._

Jolting awake, a cold sweat had broken out all over your body, matting your hair to your forehead. Your glanced at your alarm clock with hazy vision, the digital screen displaying somewhere near two in the morning. Running your hands down your face, you released a groan. With all hope of falling back asleep gone, you kicked the sheets away and arose from your sweaty bed.

Making your way into the kitchen to make a coffee, you ran into walls and furniture, the dark night sky doing little to illuminate your apartment. Your movements were sluggish, tired hands barely able to make a fist. Running your hands along the wall, you felt your way around what felt like kitchen tiles, looking for a light switch. Your fingers met the plastic box sticking out from the wall, and you flicked the switch. Light from the ceiling flooded the room and down the hall and your eyes struggled to adjust. You felt a lightning bolt of recollection pierce your heart.

_A snowy field. A blue box. A man, crying in pain. Running. Light._

Abandoning your coffee, you walked back down the hall and to your room, turning on the lights. Stacks of paintings leaned against your far wall, a mix of charcoal and acrylic paint depicting dreams, much like the one with the glowing man. Each was vastly different, with your most recent painting showing a girl sharing her heart with a dark, armoured creature. It was quite complex, and it took you over a week to complete. It was already sold, with a buyer meeting you at your home workshop that morning.

Fanning your face, you licked your lips and reached for a fresh canvas. The pristine white practically glowed, and the anticipation of tarnishing the unblemished surface was full of promise. You smiled, collecting for your paints. Setting the jars out and squeezing large blobs of paint onto your palette, you grabbed a paintbrush and closed your eyes, trying to remember what you saw in the dream.

_A dark, navy skyline, peppered with evanescent stars._

Eyes closed you feverishly mixed your paints together to get the desired pigment. Blindly reaching for the canvas with the tip of your brush, you began to paint. The scratching, scraping sound of the bristles brushing against linen reached your ears, and you immersed yourself in the sensation. You weren't sure how much time had passed when you opened your eyes.

As your eyelids flittered open, they revealed the canvas, which illustrated your dream in perfect clarity. You had captured the moment the elderly man hollered at the sky, face contorted in anger. Each wrinkle on his face and fold in his jacket was present, as if he was living before you. Despite the fact that you had never seen the man before, there was something familiar about him, and you continued to study the painting.

A wheezing, mechanical sound filled the air.

A gust of wind barrelled into the room, blowing sketch papers, paint tubes and brushes around the room. Your head spun around as you tried to find the source of the sudden gale, though you found all the window were closed.

It was then that you noticed the tall, blue box fading in and out of your room.

You yelled out in surprise, grabbing a folded easel and held it beside your head like a baseball bat. Making your way behind the door to the room, you hid behind it until the wheezing stopped, and a thud sounded. Gritting your teeth, you mentally prepared yourself for anything.

Two doors swung open from the box, and a woman with short, blonde hair stepped out.

Your eyes widened in fear, and you stepped forward hurriedly and bashed the easel across the back of her head. She yelled and collapsed, clutching the back of her head. Dropping the easel, you raised your hands into the air and took a few steps back with shaky breaths. The woman groaned, and sat up. She looked to you with a pained smile.

"We're off to a great start." She muttered with a sarcastic smile. "I've been a woman for less than five minutes and I've managed to crash myself into some girl's apartment."

"Get the hell out of my house!" You shrieked at the strange woman, picking up your easel with newfound bravery. "I will not hesitate to hit you again!"

"Please, miss..." the woman said with a laugh, trailing off at the sight of your still-wet painting. She scrambled to her feet, smile replaced with wonder. Taking her hand away from her head, you noticed a red patch of blood. It contrasted drastically with the blonde of her hair, and you panicked.

"Oh, god, you're bleeding. You're _bleeding_!" You began. Reaching for a damp painting towel, you rose, unsure of whether to help the woman or call the police.

"Did you paint this?" She asked quietly. The woman was still fixated on the canvas, all evidence of pain gone.

"You need to sit down. You're bleeding really badly and, and - and you could have a concussion!" You continued, grabbing ahold of her arm. "Take a seat. If you even move, I will-"

"I said, _did you paint this_?" She asked, whirling around to face you. A crazed look held her eye, and fear clutched your heart once more. Her face was mere inches from yours, glare boring into you.

"Yes... I did." You whispered.

The woman turned away slowly, sleep clawing at her brain. She squinted her eyes and hissed in pain, reaching for her head once more. You helped her to a chair, then quickly left to grab your first aid kit from the kitchen. Mumbling to yourself, you frantically searched the drawers and cupboards for the white, tin case. You wanted to get help, as the woman seemed both mentally and physically ill and managed to materialise in your apartment from a blue box. She was terrifying, and your imagination ran wild. She could be some alien about to kidnap and probe you, or a serial killer intent on claiming another victim.

Shaking your head, you dismissed all those thoughts.

As you made your way back into the art room, the woman was sorting through your paintings. She was holding one of a large, overweight man in a suit and tie with a zipper on his forehead. The man had no emotion on his face, while a blue light emerged from his head. The woman reached for another, which depicted a city of robotic men, each with large, black holes for eyes and sleek, tubular guns on their forearms. You ignored her unusual behaviour, walking towards her.

"What's your name, Blondie?" You asked, nervous. The woman looked up at you, distracted.

"Just call me The Doctor." She replied.

You scoffed.

"The Doctor? What are you a doctor of?" You asked. The Doctor remained focused on the painting in her hands, studying it.

"Uh, well, everything." She said. You scoffed again. "Everything, including psychically-produced paintings I suppose. Speaking of which, where did you get your inspiration for these? They're beautifully painted, almost as if you were there, which I know for a fact you were not."

You furrowed your brows, opening the first aid kit. Reaching for some rubbing alcohol, a cotton swab and tweezers, you looked back to the woman. A golden tendril of energy had emerged from her head, so bright you could no longer see the wound. Gasping, you dropped the tools, and they clattered to the ground.

"Your head!" You yelled. "It's bloody glowing!"

The Doctor waved her hand dismissively, pointing at the painting.

"Happens every now and again. So, how do your psychic abilities work? Are they alien, programmed?" She asked.

"I don't know what you're on about," you said as the glowing stopped. "and I refuse to play along until you answer some of my questions!"

The Doctor finally looked to you, and she bit her lip. She examined your face with furrowed brows.

"Fine. I ask a question, you ask a question."

"Deal." You pulled up two chairs, and gestured for her to sit. Leaning on your elbows, you glared into the woman's eyes.

"Why are you in my apartment?" You quizzed.

"I crashed my ship here." The Doctor responded matter-of-factly.

" _Ship_?!" You asked, eyes wide.

"My turn." She hurriedly said. "What planet are you from?"

"Earth, you dolt. Where else would I be from?" You replied.

"At the moment, I'd say something from the 14 planet star system of the Carrionites or Kolixhann, though I am leaning towards the latter as this is not written nor spoken mathematics. Next question; do you happen to have oddly realistic dreams that these paintings are so expertly illustrating?" She asked.

You froze, mouth hanging open. Shock held you completely stiff, unable to speak or process what was going on. The mere suggestion that you could be anything but human was absolutely absurd, and you began to reconsider your earlier thought about the alien probing.

"Yes. They're from dreams." You mumbled. The Doctor smiled as she stood and clapped.

"I knew it. You _are_ from Kolixhann."

You stood, confused.

"I'm not from anywhere, I was born and raised here, on Earth."

"Perhaps, but you are, without a doubt, a Kolixhian." The Doctor responded. She waltzed over to your paintings, and continued to sort through them.

"And how the hell would you know?"

"Because I've been to Kolixhann, and the people there are _lovely_. They make great scones, and are oddly flirtatious." She said cheekily.

" _You've been to another planet?_ "

The Doctor sighed, gazing out of your window momentarily.

"Yes. I'm not from Earth, and neither are you. Many of these paintings have other beings - much like you and I - depicted within them. Take this one for example." She began, holding up an abstract work of a salt and pepper shaker. "This is called a Dalek."

You shook your head, punching the bridge of your nose. Groaning, you felt a headache coming on. The Doctor held another painting for you to see.

"This one is of me, just a few hours ago." She said.

In her hands was the painting of the glowing man in the snow. Your confusion grew.

"But he's... he's not real." You began, lightheaded. "He's a man, in the snow, and you're a woman who appeared in my apartment. None of this makes sense, none of it. I must still be dreaming."

The Doctor laughed.

"Unlikely, but that would be interesting. How about we hop into my ship and see your home planet, eh? If I'm wrong, or lying, you'll know from the minute you set foot in there." She said merrily.

You laughed, appreciative of the nonsense.

"Why not?" You asked, throwing your hands into the air. "I'm obviously still in bed, asleep, so why can't I go inside a small, blue phone booth with a pretty stranger? Throw caution to the bloody wind."

"You think I'm pretty?" The Doctor asked, beaming.

"Of course you are." You said incredulously. "I've always been attracted to strange women who break into my apartment and offer to take me on a space vacation."

"That's the spirit!" The Doctor replied. She ran towards the box, fumbling in her pocket. Revealing a small, metal key she unlocked the front doors of the box, opening them wide. She sauntered inside, and you hesitantly followed.

Once you were inside, the vast, futuristic room inside the box was revealed to you. Circles lined with blue and orange lights covered the walls, while staircases led to bookshelves and different corridors all over the ship. In the centre, a polygon-shaped desk covered with a number of buttons, levers and sensors was situated, with a glass tube in the middle, reaching the roof. The shipped hummed loudly as you approached the console, different parts of the ship whirring and spinning.

The space felt entirely otherworldly, and you found yourself staring in awe.

"She likes you! Normally newcomers don't get such a warm welcome from the Tardis!" The Doctor said. "I think she just gets a bit jealous."

The ship wheezed in protest, shaking violently. You stumbled, reaching out to the hand railing.

"Calm down there girl, you know I don't mean it personally." The Doctor said, stroking the console.

"It's... it's bigger. It's bigger... on the inside." You mumbled.

The Doctor rolled her eyes.

"Yes, yes. Don't get yourself hung up on that though. We can go anywhere in any time of the universe, so I suggest you hold on to the railings." She said.

Pushing a series of buttons and flicking a few switches, The Doctor finally rested her hands on a large lever. She smiled widely, pulling down on it. The whole ship shook, lights flicking and parts of the console rotated, revealing new symbols in a language you couldn't begin to comprehend. Finally, your worry ebbed away, instead replaced by excitement.

The shaking stopped suddenly, and the ship sounded a thud. Your eyes widened, and you flashed The Doctor a smile. She walked to the front of the Tardis, opening the door and revealing a new and unseen planet.

"I give you the planet Kolixhann, formerly hometo over sixty billion people now taking up residency all over the universe."


End file.
